


Antithesis

by Augustus



Category: Dragonlance - Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
Genre: M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-09-09
Updated: 2001-09-09
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3213860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augustus/pseuds/Augustus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caramon struggles with his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Antithesis

There's something in the fragile knowledge that I am needed that twists the emotions into something almost tangible, streaked with bitter gold by the feather-splintered sunlight when he is near. In pushing me away he draws me ever closer, the darkness in his eyes warmer than the kindest gloss of words. From first breath, it has been this way, the shove and grasp existence as I balance agile on a near-invisible line. 

He is the shattered shadow that guides each stuttering step, cold fingers stretched tight around my mind as the wind seems to whisper of death and desire. And it is wrong. Wrong that my skin tingles with each sullen assault, wrong that my gaze wishes only to shelter within heavy red folds that burn black within my heart, taunting, deceiving... Lies of the heart, of the mind, of the body, turning and falling and wrapping me ever tighter in the icy-seductive lacing of a chasm without end.

And it is wrong.

Tears might be laughter and there's time in his eyes. Time in his eyes, clouds in the sky and a creeping-cutting feeling of smooth darkness in my grasp. He knows and he teases, slippery motion of dizzying almost nearness as I close my eyes against thunder that swells a staccato beat in ears ashamed to listen. Crimson wings in air held frozen by fear and the desperate sneaking tingle of the urge to hold and to possess. Dreams or reality, history or fantasy, nothing clears the thoughts like the intoxication of his gaze.

Smiling, spinning, grass beneath my feet and yet the stars fall all around. A touch fuels the darkness, guides the black and the white into swirling, strangling grey. The mirror breaks, intentions shatter and there's something in this glowing knowledge that twists the world into a feeling tinged with razor-sliver need. Evil becomes good and roles shatter and invert. It is warm here. Golden skin fiery beneath my touch as the darkness wraps around.

And it is right.

**09-09-2001**


End file.
